Undead, but Still Adorable
by meme-asaurus
Summary: Drawing from the Horror Remix of a certain Frozen song, Anna dies by Elsa's clumsy hand and becomes a wight in this story. In turn, Anna bangs on her sister's door every night, trying to make Elsa come out. What's different here? It's a comedy, that's what. Might not be a lighthearted one, but it's still a comedy. 1st-person POV.


**AN: It's me, memeasaurus, author of the infamous brony fic "The Unexpected Love Life of Dusk Shine" on FiMFiction dot net! I thought I'd like to dabble outside my fandom for a bit. Please read and review. In fact, just enjoy it if you want to. Reading fanfiction is supposed to be fun, dammit!**

* * *

Elsa, do remember the day I died? It's kinda fuzzy for me. Could you describe it? In fact, I wish that you would talk to me at all.

"Elsa, open up! I wanna see you!" I say, my voice muffled by the ever-present wooden doorway between us.

I'm beginning to really hate that door.

"GO AWAY! STOP! YOU'RE NOT ANNA!" you scream again. You scream a lot these days. Then again, I scream from time to time too. I bet my ears would be hurting a lot by now, but I don't mind. I don't feel much of anything anymore. All I know is that I want to see you again.

Again, I hate that door. Very much. Was I clear the last time? Good.

It's cold, Elsa. I feel really cold. Like, all the time. Maybe it's because my clothes are getting old. Not changing after seven years in a row will do that, I guess. Is it warmer under the covers in there? I sometimes like to imagine it is.

"MOTHER! FATHER! HELP MEEEEEE!" you call out. You always call out to them. I could set my watch to it. You know, if I had a watch. Fifty seconds in and you always start to try to get Mom and Dad out of bed. I sorta want a watch now. Watches are pretty. Shiny things, watches.

I see my pounding fists start to fade. Fading away into mist and nothingness. If there's one thing I hate more than that door, it's the nothingness. The nothingness that I always have to sit in until the next night. I feel all numb inside the nothingness, and that's more than usual. Worst of all, there's nothing to do inside the nothingness. It's why I miss you so much, Elsa. It's why I want to play all the time. Can't you see that? Can't you just walk out of your room with me and live a little? I think that would do you some good, Elsa.

I muster out, "Do you wanna build a-" before I go.

Well, I'm halfway gone. I can still see Dad walking down the hall. I don't think he sees me, though. I always feel a little sad when he can't. He walks past me-walks through me, really- and says "What is it, Elsa? Another nightmare?"

"She was back Father, I swear it! I'm not crazy!"

"Of course not. It's just dreams."

"But she's real! She's real and she's a monster!"

"Okay Elsa, how about this: You can sleep in our room from now on. At least until you stop having these dreams. Would you like that?"

"No! Anything but that! I'll put you two in danger!"

Dad sighs at that. He sounds tired. I'm tired, too. I can't even see anything anymore. I can still hear voices though. Voices that say things like, "Something something guards something something something security tenfold something something something so you'll feel better."

"Yes, something something very much. Thank you, something."

Poop. This better not be what I think it is.

* * *

Whaddya know, it's exactly what I thought it was.

ELSA, YOU ACTUALLY MOVED ROOMS. NOW I'LL HAVE TO SPEND HALF THE NIGHT LOOKING FOR YOU. DO YOU EVEN KNOW HOW BIG THIS CASTLE IS? I AM SO ANGRY AT YOU RIGHT NOW.

Oh, and there's some more guards. No problem. I'm reeeeaaaal good at sneaking around now. Sometimes I like to pretend that I'm the world's greatest thief, robbing from the rich and giving to the poor. You know, without actually stealing anything. It's actually pretty fun; you should try with me sometime.

Besides, it's much more fun than just going up behind their backs and touching them. Can you believe it? One teensy wittle touch and they get knocked out cold. Mom and Dad should hire better guards.

Oh wait, they only fall asleep when I'm the one touching them. I keep forgetting that. Or do they just die? I can never tell.

…

Hmmmm.

…

Okay, I can't remember which. Dying or sleeping? This one's gonna stick in the back of my mind forever and drive me crazy. Does this ever happen to you, Elsa?

Ah, there you are! I would have never guessed that you were sleeping in the attic. Still, I found you somehow. I can hear breathing up there, Elsa. Call it a bit of beginner's luck. You can always have rights to beginner's luck when you're a younger sister, right? At least, that's what you always told me during our snowball fights. Ah, the snowball fights. Wish one of those could happen again.

I can still hear you breathing. You're trying to keep it quiet, but it's quickening. Do you know that I'm here? I wonder if you can hear my breath. Wait no, I don't breathe. Is it about me crawling on the ceiling below you? I always forget how much noise that can make.

"It's nothing," you hiss to yourself. "It's just one of those nighttime noises. Just close your eyes and it'll go away. Conceal, don't feel. Conceal, don't feel. Conceal, don't feel…"

UUUUUGGGGGHHH. UGH WITH A CAPITAL 'U.' Again with that _stupid _rhyme. You have no idea how many times you've forced me to listen to that.

Apparently, my internal groan was also out loud this time, because you've gone absolutely quiet. A moment or two ticks by. The attic floorboards creak, struggling to sustain a dead nine–year-old girl.

The annoying rhyme is back in full force. "Concealdon'tfeelconcealdon'tfeelconcealdon'tfeel concealdon'tfeelconcealdon'tfeelconcealdon'tfeelconcealdon'tfeelconcealdon'tfeelconcealdon'tfeelconcealdon'tfeelconcealdon'tfeelconcealdon'tfeelconcealdon'tfeelconcealdon'tfeelconcealdon'tfeel…"

Since we're all out in the open now and there's coincidentally a layer of wood between us, I decide to strike up our usual conversation. "Hey Elsa, you wanna have a snowball fight? I'll go easy on you!"

Alas, my fifty seconds are up. "GUAAAARDS! INTRUDER!"

Welp, it's time to do my thing. Goodbye Elsa, hello nothingness. I never understood why you liked me better than my sister, nothingness, but you want me all the same. I'll be fading into you any second now.

Any second now.

Annnny second now…

Here it comes…

Taking a bit longer than usual…

…

Huh. That's new.

Hot dog Elsa, this is our lucky day! Erm… lucky night. Whatever.

About three dozen guards cram themselves into the room below me. They look as surprised as I am. Okay, maybe more.

My head twists 180o to get a good look at them.

They scream.

I drop down.

They're armed to the teeth.

I have my own two hands.

They have to kill something that's already dead.

I have to poke them on the nose.

I win~!

After five minutes, you're probably starting to wonder why it's so quiet down here. You start to yell again when I pull down the attic's ladder. We see each other. You keep screaming. Ice is covering the whole room. You keep screaming. I try not to slip on the floor. You keep screaming.

You. Just. Keep. Screaming.

"STOP THAT!" I snap.

…

It worked. Wow.

But I'm too frustrated to be happy right now. It feels wrong, in a sense. I'm always happy to see you these days, but I never get the chance to see you period. Now that I've broken in, I'm not happy at all.

I'm actually tired. Really, really tired.

So, no more requests to build a snowman. No more begging to go sledding. No more pleading to open the _absolutely cursed_ door. Not tonight, Sister freaking Dearest.

Instead, I just walk towards you. I don't know what I'm going to say when we get face-to-face, but I'm working on it. I have plenty of time to think too, since this ice is getting super-slippery. I've landed on my face three time by now.

When I get to your new attic-bed, I'm wheezing for air. Not that I actually need to breathe, but sometimes I just like to have oxygen in my lungs. You wouldn't get it.

Your face is silly. Your eyes are the size of dinner plates and your mouth is opening and closing like a goldfish. I guess you don't know what to say. That makes two of us.

I've made up my mind, however: I don't want to play anything right now. Too exhausting. I want to talk. Talk about something. Anything.

"Elsa?"

"Y-yes?"

"Can I… can I sleep next you tonight? I'm cold."

"That's it?"

"That's it."

I slept for a very long time.


End file.
